phyllis and gin

My mom likes cards, always has.  And she's good.  She can remember every card played, and even reference them in future games.  "Boy, I could have used that card last game." Once my hand is down, I've forgotten every card in it.  

Bridge twice a week and canasta once. My mom plays three times a week (except for summer), and there is no overlap among her three different friend groups. 

But I know her for her gin skills. 

 with Eddie (left),  July 1982

teaching Ari and Jason, August 1987

inspiring other family members: Jean, Valerie,Jason and my dad, Thanksgiving 2009

My dad, though competitive, was never as good as my mom.  And while he's generally not a sore loser, the combination of my mom's smart playing combined with her good luck was too much for him. My mom famously tells a story of a gin fight she and my dad had, where they didn't speak for an entire weekend. I have no doubt that whatever happened my mom did no wrong. She's a great loser and a good sport. I wouldn't be surprised if this were the scenario. My mom teasingly says, "Oh, I could use a card right here." And then my dad throws a card and my mom—  with much glee I'm sure —responds, "I can't believe it . That's it. Gin." 

Today is not a beach day.

But it's a good day for cards. So the three of us sit around the sun room. (Ellie insists on being as close to my mother as possible; she is not concerned with my mom's comfort).

Perhaps that explains the unusual score.